Monthly Archives: November 2025

Teatro Paraguas

Thank you to Teatro Paraguas for being such a gracious host, and to the people who attended and supported the reading and book-signing in Santa Fe. It was a sweet, humanly connected, word-warmed evening.

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Mortuary

Miko was a singer with her voice in the clouds. They called Miko blue. Occasionally, there would be flashes of red. In the fall, Miko would softly mimic the elegy of leaves and become yellow. She would, in voice and … Continue reading

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Operating Theater

   I have become moonless in my grief, a paled comparison. But to what? To who I used to be? What I expected to become? I feel as if I’ve been laid out on an operating table, and Time, as … Continue reading

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Empire Strikes Back

   Her hips began the snake-dance, the spasmodic wiggle. She told me to listen closely, and her hips began hissing a slow cadence, the world losing its air, the world a depleted lunar asthmatic in need of oxygen blasts. My … Continue reading

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That Thing With Feathers

   As she moved her bladed hips beneath him, small dark starshaped birds tore out of her hips, scissoring the air, and were then immediately sucked back into her hips, as if by an invisible vacuum.    He stopped, and … Continue reading

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Pirate Radio

   Hips don’t lie. They are the truth-telling giants and the whistle-blowers transmitting through pirate radio. They are also the catacombs and weather satellites of one’s cumulative genealogy. When an old person falls and breaks their hip, it is not … Continue reading

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Gremlins

   I can no longer remember where I was when it happened, only that it happened, it must have happened. Sometimes we cry silent recordings in our bones, or guts, or maybe it is our hips that are the primary … Continue reading

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Hips Don’t Lie

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Last Furies in L.A.

I am excited to share that in support of my new novel, The Last Furies, I will be headed to L.A. to do a reading and book-signing in January. This event will be a collaboration with my dear friend, fellow … Continue reading

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3 AM

Sometimes we wake up at 3am and we don’t know who we are, how we got there (where is there), why anything. Why at all. In these ghostly interstices, we try to locate ourselves in absentia—we awaken to no purpose, … Continue reading

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